


I Have a Strange Feeling This Isn't Our First Time Around: Or, How Satan Got a Soul

by tinygaymoonfae



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: AU sort of, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Death, Devilman Crybaby, I'm a gay disaster and I had to give them a happy ending, Lots of Crying, M/M, Redemption, Ryo is a big gay baby, Second Chances, Slight Mention of Blood, Spoilers for Episode 10, but not really, god makes an appearence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 02:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13448448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinygaymoonfae/pseuds/tinygaymoonfae
Summary: Pyrrhic Victory: (noun) a victory that inflicts such damage that it might as well be a defeat.Ryo got everything he asked for and nothing he needed.  Alone, the sole survivor of an apocalypse he created, he realizes something very important--life means nothing without love.  He's ready to admit defeat when he gets offered a second chance.  Will he take it?  If he did, would it be worth it? And more importantly, how heavy is the burden of a human soul?





	I Have a Strange Feeling This Isn't Our First Time Around: Or, How Satan Got a Soul

**Author's Note:**

> I finished Devilman Crybaby last night and I've been ever so slightly dying since then. The ending hit me like a ton of bricks and left a bad taste in my mouth. What can I say, I'm a sucker for redemption and a sap for true love.

     The quiet was deafening. It permeated the air like a fog, wrapping around him as if embracing him. Or…no, not embracing. Choking him, restraining him, locking him in place and trapping his voice in his throat. Frozen except for the hot tears that poured shamelessly down his face, Ryo could do nothing but stare into the eyes of his friend. Was that what he was? He admitted he wasn’t familiar with the concept; demons didn’t really do that sort of thing. But, that wasn’t true strictly speaking. Because here he was, a demon, aching down to his very core, weeping over a corpse.

  
    _Love does not exist, there is no such thing as love. Therefore, there is no sadness._

  
     “I was wrong Akira, so very wrong,” Ryo whispered, voice barely audible. As if in slow motion he lowered his face until his forehead was gently pressed against Akira’s. His shaky breath exhaled onto Akira’s lips, as close to a kiss as he’d ever gotten. He wanted more, he realized, so much more. He wanted Akira to look at him with those eyes full of love and devotion, the eyes that never discriminated between friend and stranger. Everyone was just a friend waiting to be met as far as Akira was concerned. He was so tender, how had Ryo never seen that. Soft in a world full of hate and cruelty, full of people as bad as Ryo, as bad as Satan himself.

  
     The warmth was rapidly draining from Akira’s body; soon it would be nothing but an empty vessel that once held more beauty than one person should be allowed. Beauty that had been offered to Ryo so readily, a constant in his life that he’d never had to question. How selfish he’d been, how shamefully he’d wasted the most precious thing life could ever give you. Gently he caressed Akira’s cooled cheek, the rosy tone of life now replaced with deathly gray. His eyes were still open but unfocused, dull, the sparkle gone. They were drier than Ryo had ever seen them, and for once he wished dearly to see the steady stream of tears that meant his heart still beat, still felt, still cried out at the anguish of this world. Like a child unaware of the bigger picture, he’d labeled Akira’s heart as foolish and weak. Ryo didn’t cry; he had no need to. Pain and death were inevitable, an unavoidable price of being alive, of being weak enough to care. But he’d been wrong. True weakness was cutting yourself off from love to avoid the possibility of pain. Assuming that cruelty was justified and fighting against it was futile, that was what made you weak.

  
      _You’re human too, Akira had said again and again._

  
     Maybe he’d misinterpreted that. True he was far from human, but he had a heart just the same; a heart capable of hurt and sorrow and sadness. A heart that could break; wasn’t that what humans always said? He’d never put much stock into the expression but now he chided himself on being so overly confident. If he had paid attention maybe he’d know how to mend his heart, how to move on. But he didn’t want to, even if he knew how he didn’t want to simply move on. He didn’t want to ever move from this spot, even as Akira decayed and became part of the charred earth below him. Even as time passed, hours into years into eons. None of that mattered, there was nothing to move on to if he let go of this moment. This was his punishment. Punishment for being selfish, for being stupid, for being so self absorbed he couldn’t see what had been right beside him for so long.

  
     Without warning the trickle of tears turned into a flood and he felt his chest heave with sobs. They echoed through the emptiness, sharp as a knife, and reminded him how alone he was now. His body, supposedly so strong and powerful, felt weak like a rag doll. He snaked his arms tightly around Akira’s chest, pulling it closer to himself. Blood that had settled in his wounds oozed onto his thighs but he didn’t care. Couldn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore. This was no victory; this was not what he had dreamed of.

  
     “I’m an idiot Akira, I’m a fool and a coward, and now I’m going to spend eternity alone. How could I do those things? All those people, all the blood that’s on my hands…oh Akira come back to me. Please I’m so scared I don’t want to be here without you.” His words gushed past his lips, his voice unrecognizable to his ears. How broken he sounded. How lonely. He remembered Akira’s mother. _I’m_ _already_ _dead_. The overwhelming sadness that had filled her eyes. That saturated her voice. He heard her in his pleas and let out another sob. But this one was not for himself, for the lonely eternity that awaited him. No, this sob was for her. For the little girl who’d begged not to die without seeing her mother. For Miki. For Akira. For humanity.

  
      He felt hot, overheated as if he’d been tossed onto a fire. Emotions coursed through his veins, emotions he’d seen but never felt.  Humility, regret, shame—so much shame for every action he carried out, every choice he made, every wrong turn he so carelessly took. Humans were cruel, vicious, yet Akira had seen something beautiful in each and every one of them. Even as they shot and cut and rejected him—even when he had the option to reach out and take power, to awaken Amon and become stronger than anything imaginable—even then he had chosen love over hate. Ryo couldn’t understand, not really, it seemed counterintuitive not to fight back when you were under attack. Yet something inside him wanted to understand, wanted to know why Akira could have been so selfless. If only he had asked, just once, what he’d meant when he said _it looked like love to me_.

  
     He wracked his brain; his useless brain that could start the apocalypse but not follow the breadcrumb trail to love Akira had so patiently laid out for him. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t understand Akira’s thought process. His thoughts were muddled, head heavy with tears that refused to stop falling from his burning eyes. The tears had pooled on Akira’s face, making it look almost like he was the one crying. A sight both familiar and so alien when he could feel death under his fingertips.

  
      To hell with it, to hell with everything. He pressed his lips to Akira’s, once, twice, again and again he tenderly kissed the lips of the only thing in this world he’d ever cared about.

  
     The only thing he’d ever loved, ever would love.

  
     “You were right, I don’t understand it but I…I trust you. I’m sorry you never got to hear me say that. I’m sorry for lying, for hurting you, for not trusting your devotion to the goodness in people. I’m sorry I never earned the love you gave me and I wish—“he paused, trying to find the words to talk to a dead man. “I wish I could undo all of this, I wish I could turn back time and listen to you instead of being selfish. If I knew…if I knew anything, I would do it. I’d trade places with you. I always knew there was something bad in me, but it’s never been so obvious.”

  
     He drew in a shaky breath and rested his face in the crook of Akira’s neck.

  
     “You’re so good, Akira. You’re so full of tenderness; you deserved to live, not me. I love you, I’m so…I’m so sorry, so sorry.”

  
     Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bright light. God, the merciless god, must be raining fire upon this wretched planet.  
“Go ahead,” Ryo thought absently. “There’s nothing worth saving now.” He maneuvered Akira’s arms to wrap loosely around his waist and held on tight. He wouldn’t resist this time. He’d accept his demise with grace and dignity. Maybe God was merciful after all, releasing him from this agony. His heartbeat finally slowed; calmed by the game of pretend he was playing. If he kept his eyes closed he could lie to himself, Akira was still here, holding him. He was just asleep. If he just lied to himself long enough to die he could spend at least a few moments in heaven before being sent straight to hell.

  
     “Sit up, my child, dry your tears,” said a voice. Ryo kept his eyes tightly closed. He knew that voice. Could He really be so cruel as to torment him now that the battle was done?

  
     “Leave me alone, Ryo begged wordlessly, “let me play pretend for just a moment longer.”

  
     “Ryo, come now. There’s no need to be so stubborn. I come to you with good intentions.”

  
     “Fine,” Ryo thought. Blood was drying on his leg and his head pounded. There was no joy in this fantasy. He lifted his head, keeping his hold tight around Akira. His body was like ice, stiff and cold and lifeless; a mere imitation of the brilliant beauty that he once had been.

     “I’m done, I’m finished. You proved your point, I was wrong and careless and stupid.” Ryo kept his sight straight ahead. There was nothing to see besides the circle of light separating him from the darkness of the empty world. He’d long forgotten if God even had a physical form or if He just...existed.

     “True, you were careless, but not stupid my child, never stupid. Foolish, perhaps is the better word, but never stupid. But that is not why I came to speak to you. I came to offer you a choice and I hope this time you’ll choose correctly.”

     A choice, the notion seemed like it should be intriguing but Ryo couldn’t muster up the energy to care.

     “I’m listening, I suppose. What is this choice I have?”

     “You were my most beloved angel, beautiful and light. But something was missing, when I created you I left something out. I should have known better than to let you lose into my universe without it, but I…admit I was curious to see what you would do. Now I see the error in that decision and I’d like to correct it if you’ll let me. In return I’ll give you what you want most.”

     A humorless laugh escaped Ryo’s throat, a rattling dead sound. “What, pray tell, is it that I want most?”

     “A second chance, you say you would do anything to undo the damage you wrought. Why not try again? You’ve learned to love another more than you love yourself, use that knowledge. It may surprise you to learn that I don’t enjoy watching my children suffer. And I enjoy wiping the slate clean time and time again even less.”

     Could it really be that simple? Just…start over and try again? It seemed too easy, too good to be true. He didn’t trust himself, his idea of right and wrong were fuzzy at best. Except…he looked down at Akira. Right was any choice he’d approve of, wrong was everything else.

     A simple rule he could follow, would follow, so long as he got to see Akira smile again.

     “I’m afraid. What if I cause all this again somehow? What if I’m destined to ruin everything no matter how many chances I’m given? I—”

     “Love is a powerful force, trust it. Akira always did.”

Right was any choice he’d approve of, wrong was everything else.

     “Okay,” Ryo said, “I accept your offer. Thank you, truly, I…I promise that I’ll do everything in my power to deserve it.” A thought struck him. “What was the thing I lack, if I may ask?”

     “Something I should have given to every creation from the very start, every bird and human and angel alike. A soul.”

     “A soul…that’s a heavy burden to bear. But for him I’ll carry it.”

     “Good, my child. You’re already doing better than the last time. I have faith in you.”

     A warm pressure, like the hand of a mother, stroked his cheek. Ryo felt his body begin to go numb, first fingers and toes, then creeping upwards towards his chest. Towards his heart. His eyelids became heavy.

     “But…the demons. They’ll still try to hurt people, they’ll hurt _him_. They’ll hurt Akira how do I—”

     “You are the last living being on this planet, Ryo. They’ve gone forever, remember that at least one good thing came out of this misery. Now rest my child, you have a long life ahead of you.”

     The last thing he saw before closing his eyes was the last of his tears rolling down Akira’s face.

     “I’m coming love, wait for me,” he whispered.

 

* * *

 

     “Akira!” Ryo shouts, surprised by his voice. He blinks, realizing where he is. The pier. His white coat is hot; why did he wear this thing, he’d never thought about how ridiculous it was before now. The sky above him was warm with the setting summer sun, his nostrils filled with the smell of ocean water. Below him, he sees three boys and a girl—he recognizes them, the girl is Miki. He’s startled to see them again outside of a warzone; they look so young. Ryo turns his eyes to Akira, standing dumbfounded in a boat. He’ll have to remember to ask what he was doing this time around. He has so many questions to ask, so much to learn.

     “Ryo?” Akira’s normal voice is so much smaller than he remembers. It hadn’t been that long ago but it feels like a million lifetimes and he aches with the weight of love in his heart.

     “Akira come on, let’s go,” the right words fall into place. Something in him feels like he can’t upset the script quiet yet. He knows the moment when he’ll set his new life in motion, but he can’t rush yet. He wants this to be perfect, for Akira. Anything for Akira.

     “Hey fool we’re in the middle of something here,” the boy with the heavy gold chain around his neck says.

     “I suggest you stay quiet,” Ryo replies, automatically reaching into his coat to grab his gun only to find it missing. That’s fine, they made a deal after all.

     “What’d you just say?” the boy replies, but Ryo can barely hear him. Akira bounds up the stairs two at a time. His face is perfect, sweet with an easy smile plastered on his lips.

     “Akira!” he cheers as Akira leaps into his arms. He wants to cry, he wants to hold on and never let go. Akira’s skin is warm, his arms wrapped tightly around him of his own volition.

     “Ryo!” It’s so strange to see him truly happy. His eyes light up focused on him as if he’s the only thing that matters.

     “Akira!” Miki calls, “who is that guy?” The first time around her indignant concern had been an annoyance, but now it calls up a feeling Ryo can’t quite name. He’s glad Akira has such loving people in his life. He knows how much he values her, and Ryo promises himself that he will do the same.

     “Ryo Asuka. We’re the same age but he’s a professor at a college in the states.” Had he really been a professor? That seems so distant now.

     “Let’s go right now,” Ryo is losing patience, losing the ability to hold himself together. He wants to get somewhere quiet where he can kiss every inch of Akira and reassure himself that this isn’t a dream. He pulls Akira to his car and once behind the wheel he speeds off, everything else be damned.

     “Ryo I—” Akira begins, clearly confused.

     “Please just—” his voice is breaking, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “Please just hold my hand, please I’m so sorry to cause a scene, but I needed to see you.”

     Akira seems satisfied with that, he wordlessly reaches out and grabs the shaking hand Ryo hold’s out to him. A heaviness settles in his chest, warm and right but still new and strange. A soul, the heaviest burden to bear.  
Presently they arrive at Ryo’s apartment and make their way inside. Ryo can sense that it’s empty, that Psycho Jenny is nowhere to be found. Somehow, it makes the place feel warmer than before. He leads Akira to the couch and motions for him to sit before placing himself directly onto his lap. Instantly whatever control he’d had vanishes and he lets out a pitiful sob. Slipping off his coat he presses as much of himself against Akira as he can, desperate, touch starved. It’s a new sensation, an actual hunger that burns his skin and settles unwelcome in his bones.

     Finally, Akira breaks the silence. “Ryo what’s going on? You’re scaring me, this isn’t like you.”

  
     How to explain unimaginable horror, a task he once might have found simple but now saw as the hardest thing he could ever do. He fumbles for words, grasping for memories that seem just out of reach. The harder he tries to call them to the surface, the smaller the memories shrink. As he looks into eyes he never thought he’d see again, he realizes how deep the second chance truly goes. God, merciful loving God, is giving him an out—a way to explain his crimes as separate from himself. And weren’t they, in a way? That Ryo, the soulless selfish Ryo who passed up love for a hollow victory, is gone.

     “I…had a horrible…dream, a nightmare. It felt so real, you were dead, and it was my fault, all my fault. Akira I’ve been so foolish, to think I could live a life without love. Without you. You are my everything. When I woke up, I realized I had to see you, to make sure you were safe. I quit my job and I’m moving back to Japan permanently. Akira Fudo I love you more than I can bear. You don’t have to want me; all I’m asking is to have you in my life. But if you’ll have me, I’d like to spend the rest of my days beside you.”

  
     The apartment is quiet, air tense. He worries that he overstepped, that he misread Akira’s level of affection. He closes his eyes and feels his soul, new and unadjusted to him, curl tightly into itself.

  
     “You got what you wanted, remember that whatever he says he’s still alive and happy,” Ryo reminds himself mentally. His feelings don’t have to be returned, he’ll protect him from afar if he’s not permitted any closer. The silence drags on and finally he can’t take it. Ryo opens his eyes, vision slightly blurry with tears, expecting to see Akira’s face contorted in anger or disgust.

  
     What he’s greeted with is the fondest look he’s ever seen. Akira’s cheeks are flushed, shy, and his eyes are soft.

  
     “Ryo I’m going to kiss you now, is that alright?” Ryo nods, dumbstruck.

  
     Their lips meet, warm and alive and electric. Both of them have tears running down their cheeks, and each time they break apart they dive right back in.

  
     “I missed you so much Ryo, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Akira says, breathless and triumphant.

  
     “Don’t worry, I’m here now. I’ll never make you wait again,” Ryo whispers into the crook of Akira’s neck.

  
     “I love you Ryo.”

  
     For the first time, Ryo feels like he’s made the right decision. If Akira is happy then all is right with the world. He dries his tears and sits up so he can look Akira in the eye. Ryo smiles.

  
     “I love you too Akira.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always thank you to my readers! I love ya'll dearly. This is slightly different from my usual stuff and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you want to scream with me about Devilman Crybaby, or just want to talk, you can find me on twitter/tumblr @tinygaymoonfae
> 
> Thank you lovelies!!!


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